


The patina effect

by me1innit



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: DreamSMP - Freeform, DreamTeam, F/M, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Format: Streaming, Heatwaves, Internal Conflict, Minecraft, Pining, Separations, Sexy Times, Slow Burn, Top Alexis | Quackity, Twitch - Freeform, Unrequited Lust, VidCon YouTube Convention, YouTube, mcyt - Freeform, tbhyourelame
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:35:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28324671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/me1innit/pseuds/me1innit
Summary: Amelie has always been a dedicated Quackity fan, but it isn't until she kickstarts her own streaming career that their detached relationship is thrust into something much more profound. She must learn to cope with her newfound fame as she is simultaneously hurled into the unfamiliar world of love and longing.
Relationships: Alexis | Quackity/Original Female Character(s), Alexis | Quackity/Other(s), Alexis | Quackity/You
Comments: 22
Kudos: 121





	1. Amelie

**Author's Note:**

> A REMINDER THAT CREATORS ARENT YOUR FRIENDS. This is just a fun story and I do not encourage you to go to quackity’s next live stream, donate $100 and expect him to fall madly in love with you. Please don’t take this story seriously and respect streamers’ boundaries.  
> ***  
> This is my first ever fan fiction so you’ll probably notice me frequently changing things as I go along, sorry about that.  
> It’s obviously not perfect so please give any constructive criticism you have, don’t be a stranger, I definitely want to improve.  
> Enjoy :)

The aggressive buzz of Amelie’s phone on her bedside table was enough to send her eyes wide in panic, revealing two perfect jade orbs.

The fierce glow emitting from her phone shot a sharp pain deep into her temples.

Her lids shut tightly in protest as the light ruthlessly flooded her retinas. 

She slapped her left hand blindly across the tabletop until it came in contact with the cool smooth surface of her phone.

Bringing the device closer to her face, she squinted the indecipherable notification into focus,

_Quackity is live!_

  
The words were enough to send her back straight; up like a bolt in the darkness, her shirt clinging to the cold sweat on her back and chest.

She stared blankly at the screen in disbelief.

Alex had announced his hiatus from streaming just over a month ago, saying he needed a break due to 'personal issues'. In his absence, time seemed to flow like cement and monotony had occupied Amelie's days.

She untangled herself from the suddenly suffocating duvet, almost falling out of bed.

She scrambled across her room to her desk and threw herself onto her chair.

Her stomach plummeted as the chair heeled to the left, but she managed to recover her composure by desperately spreading her arms across her desk and firmly gripping its sides.

She began incessantly clicking her mouse until the large rectangular screen before her sighed to life, spilling light over her pink keyboard and mousepad.

Without any conscious thought of her own, her body guided the cursor; chrome, twitch, quackityhq and suddenly Alex's face was spread across her screen.  
  
“Thank you innitinc for the 5 gifted subs I really appreciate it !"

Goosebumps lined her skin as the low gravelly timbre of his voice swamped her eardrums.

A few strands of his tousled dark hair peeked out from under his navy beanie and the black hoodie that hung casually from his shoulders was half unzipped.

She impulsively donated $5, as she did almost every stream, and waited an adrenaline-filled minute before his response.

  
"Oh my god, heyyyy quackithot ! It's been a while ahaha. Thanks so much for the $5."

  
She had been a dedicated follower of his ever since he humbly boasted an average viewer count of 24 and he often mentioned her in his streams.

She had become a beacon of hope for fans desperate for the attention of their idols; a success story of sorts. Memes, conspiracy theories and, before she knew it, fan fictions circulated about the alleged intricacies of her and 'big Q's' relationship.

As usual, her arrival was greeted with capitalised keyboard smashes and exclamations.

With raised eyebrows and an uneven smile, Alex rolled his eyes and continued streaming as previously scheduled.

***

“See you guys very soon. Maybe tomorrow? I don't know. Good night."

  
The stream came to a close and Amelie, energised from her afternoon nap, had no intention of going to sleep.

The pixels that had once taken Alex's form had now metamorphosed into the Instagram homepage.

Her account consisted of an array of quackity related memes and updates, without a picture of herself in sight.

Her DMS were piling up as they usually do after streams.

She had garnered quite the following in her years of dedicated fandom and viewers often flooded her inbox with questions on her apparent relationship with the streamer, to which she never replied.

As Amelie mechanically scrolled through the explore page, she checked the time. An hour had passed since she last checked two minutes ago, or so it seemed.

She groaned and threw her head back as the regret of wasted time loomed over her like a wet and heavy blanket.

After a long internal debate, she reluctantly decided to prepare herself for bed.

She dragged her feet towards the en-suite and lifted her eyes up from the glossy tiles of her bathroom floor to her shocking reflection.

Her curtain bangs which once elegantly framed her oval face now lay on her shiny forehead like a second skin. Her shoulder-length hair was lazily ruffled, the brown strands intertwined into a tangled chaos. Sweat had formed a dark growing map down the front of her top, turning it from a light grey toward charcoal. With summer break came a lack of routine and, for Amelie, a lack of self-care.

She wrenched her gaze from the critical mirror in disgust and, without a second of thought, got into the shower.

Once the protective layer of grime that had coated her skin was removed, she tumbled into bed, phone in her clutch. She opened Instagram and felt her muscles flex with shock from the notification bar that snuck into view at the top of her screen.

_quackity started following you._

***

"Yooooo chat calm the fuck down!"

Alex's bold move from the night before had sent the fandom into an agitated hullabaloo. Amelie's phone had been buzzing all day like an annoyed rattlesnake, her DMS trebling in quantity. She had been skimming over the chat, hair in fists and knees to chest. A discomfort began to rise in her lungs and a feeling of excess caffeine shook her brain as the interrogative fans pressed Alex for answers.

"It just felt wrong to have never followed her after all this time, alright? My hiatus helped me to realise that," Alex explained, "There's nothing going on between us, you guys need to chill. My PSA is now over!"

A knot had begun to form in Amelie's stomach. She had grown accustomed to the attention over the years but on this scale? Her stomach lurched as a wave of nausea washed over her.

"Thank you so much karljacobswifey for the $3 I really..."

His voice came to a decrescendo as he read the accompanying message.

_Quackithot, would you ever consider streaming? We're all so curious about you!_

The thought itself made her guffaw. Amelie was the most painfully ordinary person she had ever had the misfortune to meet.

Her personality? bland.

Talents? nonexistent.

Appearance? Underwhelming.

Her quotidian routine was about as exhilarating as waiting in a long queue. She knew that viewers would be utterly disappointed if she were to ever give it a shot.

"You know what guys?"

Her train of thought was cut short by Alex's sudden interjection,

"I think I can actually back this one."

Brain stuttering and lips parted, she froze.

"I've known her all these years without ever- _truly_ knowing her. And-"

His back shot up from his previously relaxed posture,

"I DON'T MEAN THIS IN A WEIRD WAY AT ALL BUT..."

He paused, eyes distant, breaking into a slight grin and melting back into his chair.

"It'd be cool to finally see her face.” It was almost whispered.

Chills starting from her tailbone traced up her spine like a feather until a gentle static was left to sizzle in the back of her neck. The depths of his eyes and the gentleness of his voice was enough to make any woman swoon.


	2. Sleepless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie struggles to sleep as her mind races.

The usefulness of Amelie's thoughts had evaporated some time ago, yet her mind still churned like a motor in the darkness. The sleeplessness was torture. While the rest of the world embraced their eight hours of sleep, she tossed and turned, letting her mind fill with Alex’s voice.

_it would be cool to finally see her face_

She pressed her pillow tightly against her ears, hoping that the sound of rubbing silk would drown out his words, which seemed to be rebounding from the walls of her skull.

_it would be cool to finally see her face_

He had never spoken so fondly of her before. Aside from the occasional flirtatious jokes he had always acknowledged her to be no more than a fan, a devotee.

_it would be cool to finally see her face_

His distant gaze clearly signified a wandering mind. What his mind had wandered to was unknown but the thought alone made the hairs on Amelie’s neck stand on end.

No one feature made Alex so handsome but his eyes came close.

Those brown eyes contained a million hues, to the point where she wondered what _brown_ even meant. They are the forest and the autumnal leaves, dark rusted chocolate and saturated soil. How could anyone ever reduce something so spellbinding to one word?

_it would be cool to fi-_

“Oh, Shut up!” she cried into her pillow.

She threw her hands down so that they rested on her soft covers and opened her eyes; lashes batting faintly against her lids as she blinked.

The golden light of early morning painted her ceiling through the crack above her curtains.

Giving up, she reached for her phone and opened Instagram.

DMS and comments about her potential twitch career seemed to dominate all other notifications. She had never considered streaming before. The thought of being in the limelight often terrified her, so why now? Why was she beginning to-

_it would be cool to finally see her face_.  
  


Shit. 


	3. First glance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During Alex's stream, viewers are freaking out over quackithot’s recent post.

“How’s it going everybody! How’s everyone doing”

A warming sensation of liquid gold seemed to wash over his skin as a siege of hellos began to fill his chat. He had missed this feeling.

Appreciative doesn’t even cut it.

It had become a safe space for people to love and grow. A community of raw support that he had never thought to one day be at the centre of. He watched as familiar usernames entered the chat, real people who had supported him along the way. 

Love doesn’t even cut it either. 

“I’m just doing a chill kind of stream right now, so nothing too interesting. I wanna put full focus on chat today.” 

He drew his attention to chat and watched as comments from various viewers rushed in.

Noticing a pattern, he brought his face closer to the screen out of curiosity. 

_Share baby photos._

_  
Do you read the snap messages we send you?_

_Check out quackithots story._

_Keep doing what you’re doing :)_

_Dudeee, look at quackithots post._

_Hi cole sprouse ;)_

_  
That beanie's looking good my guy._

_QUACKITHOTS STORY!!!!_

_bro check out quackithots post!_

_I’m freaking out, look at quackithots recent!_

There was an explosion in Alex’s brain, the good kind.

The kind that carried more possibilities than he could be conscious of.

Hundreds of ideas came to life with that buzz of electricity.

“Hold up, what ?!”

Eyes wide, he hurriedly opened Instagram, the white light of his home screen casting a brilliant glow across his face. 

There, he saw it.

The peachy ring that surrounded quackithots profile picture, lurking at the side of his computer like an ominous creature luring in its prey.

Gulping hard, he clicked and allowed the post to swallow his screen whole.

His smile burst from within, a genuine and uncontrollable firework of emotion.

Still beaming, he read the message aloud,

“Hey guys,” he began, in a high, mocking tone, “so after much consideration I’ve decided I want to start streaming, I don’t know when but it will definitely be very soon.”

He swung his head to face the viewers, mouth wide with animation.

“Oh my god!”

He jumped out of his chair sending it spiraling into the stone wall behind him. He bent down, elbows on his desk, and made eye contact with his camera.

“Quackithot are you watching right now?”

His impatience made the silence all the more deafening. It lingered in the air, thick and heavy, but broke when he received a $1 donation with a short, but oh so sweet message.

_Yep :)_

***

“I’ll catch you guys next time. It was a short one today so I’m just gonna raid someone.”

His eyes skimmed over the list of potential victims.

“Should I raid Karl, Tommy, or Dr-"

He cut himself short. Suddenly, in a burst of energy, he leaped from his chair once again.

“Yo guys, we should raid quackithot!”

The chat seemed to fill with nothing but capitalised agreements. Alex nodded in approval. 

“Is she still here? Send a message if you are.”

He waited eagerly like a dog for its owner, pacing back and forth, eyes glued to his screen.

A minute passed, then another, then another, and then another until Alex had finally lost hope. 

“Yeah guys, I think she’s gone,” he sounded deflated, “I’m just gonna raid Kar-“

_Yeah, I'm here._

With fists clenched in celebration, he threw his arms in the air and whooped. He spun back into his chair and pulled himself towards his desk.

“Ok, ok, ok!” His excitement forcing his words to run into each other, “Do you wanna go live now?”

After another agonising minute, she responded.

_Sure, why not? fuck it._

Alex pressed his tongue to his cheek and his grin grew against his will.

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

He brought his eyes to the camera for his final goodbyes before selecting the purple box labeled ‘raid now’.

What he saw was a bedroom, glowing with the magenta hue from the led lights that lined the white ceiling.

He chuckled at the bed completely inhabited by plushies that could be seen in the background.

In the centre foreground was a girl.

A girl with short, slightly wavy, dark brown hair and curtain bangs.

She had the most piercing green eyes he had ever seen, it was as if her irises had been replaced by two freshly peeled grapes.

Her pale complexion contrasted starkly to the dark freckles that seemed to cascade from the bridge of her nose and across her cheeks. 

Every part of him paused while he gave his mind time to catch up.

After shaking his head like a wet dog in disbelief, he furrowed his brow and came to a surprising conclusion. 

She’s pretty.

Gorgeous, even. 


	4. Raid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amelie prepares for her first stream.

“Is she still there? Send a message if you are.”

Amelie’s face washed blank with confusion like her brain cogs couldn’t turn fast enough to take in the information with her very wide eyes.

The cup of water that previously resided between her two hands was now spilling across her carpeted floor.

Her eyes, however, remained glued on Alex.

He was pattering back and forth across her screen, like a lost duckling.

Every muscle in her body froze before a grin crept onto her face.

**Is he really that excited to see me?**

It wasn’t long before the grin stretched from one side to the other, showing every single tooth.

She slapped her hands across her mouth and let out a muffled squeal, her bangs throwing themselves upward against the air that had escaped from her palms.

She turned her attention back to her screen to see him anxiously biting his thumbnail. She spun herself backwards on her chair with her head back and arms extended before shrieking, “The power I hold over this man, Oh my god!”

Her joyous moment was swiftly snatched from her as she became painfully aware of her current appearance.

With acne patches sprawled across her forehead and a disgustingly pink onesie over her frame, she was far from presentable.

She dove for her makeup bag which was conveniently resting on the floor beside her.

Makeup was minimal, reserved to a sweep of mascara and a streak of concealer under her eyes. Lips could use some gloss.

She rummaged through the disorganised clutter of cosmetics before finally getting hold of a clear lip gloss. Perfect.

She glanced over to her computer.

5 minutes had passed since she last checked and Alex was beginning to look impatient.

Stress spread through her mind like ink on paper as she blundered across her room and swung open her closet door.

She desperately scanned its contents before resting her eyes on a khaki coloured flannel and a white ribbed tank top.

Her face distorted in a desperate attempt to avoid smudging her makeup against the white garment that she began pulling over her head; Her mouth a shrivelled ‘o’ and her eyebrows harshly raised.

“Yeah guys, I think she’s gone”

The defeat in his voice jabbed painfully at her heart.

She quickly threw the large flannel over her shoulders before slotting her arms in and racing over to her computer.

With her mind miles ahead of her body, she began typing - heart trying to escape through her throat the first chance it got.

“I’m just gonna raid Kar-“

Sent.

She let out a ragged breath before falling back into her chair.

“Do you wanna go live now?”

She blinks, refocuses, and let the previous anxieties come surging back into her system.

Her stomach churned as she reached for her mouse, her hands shook as she typed, and her throat tightened as she boldly pressed send.

_Sure, why not? Fuck it._

She let out a yelp as she reread her daring message, shocked at her sudden bravery.

“That’s what I’m talking about!”

As Alex’s stream was coming to a close Amelie began preparing for the opening of her own.

She glared at the menacing ‘go live’ button, the button which acted as a protective barrier between her and the outside world.

Once she pressed this button, there was no going back.

_**This is it.** _

She inhaled deeply and let her eyes shut before clicking.

She paused, almost forgetting to breathe, and slowly peeled one eye open to check that what she had done wasn’t a figment of her imagination.

She was live, waiting for viewers to arrive, but live nonetheless.

The anxiety felt like she was being hooked up to a cattle fence, not enough voltage to kill but enough to keep things uncomfortable.

Suddenly, a message appeared at the centre of her screen that made her heart flip,

_Quackityhq is raiding with a party of 40,000._

For a brief moment, Amelie’s muscles stiffened.

She tried to speak but her voice trailed slowly as if her words were unwilling to take flight.

In front of an audience of 40,000 people, she was frozen.

Comments flooded her chat so rapidly she could make none of them out, though her sudden dizziness may have contributed to that.

Her ears began to ring, blocking out any sound that was previously audible and her hands started to tremble.

Her panic was nimbly interrupted by a memory from her youth, a soothing memory of her wise mother.

The words of a quote she had often recited began to jam Amelie's brain...

_**“Fear is just a test. Honour the feeling. Know it’s there and know that it’s temporary. Face it to erase it.”** _

She allows the reassurance of those words to wrap around her like a warm scarf, the blaze of her distress diminishing instantly.

After releasing a pent up breath, she brought her eyes to her webcam and, in one fatal swoop, introduced herself to the world, ultimately changing her life forever.


	5. Jackbox

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quackity streams with Badboyhalo and Karl before things get interesting.

Karl’s pixelated avatar swung rapidly at badboyhalo, jumping mechanically all the while, his arm a purple piston.

“What’s wrong with you Karl?!”

The pitch of Bad’s voice fluctuated up and down in playful irritation as he scurried away in a blur across the green blocky terrain.

That’s as much as Alex’s eyes could make out anyway, which had squinted his two friends out of focus as a result of him doubling up and bursting into a loud harsh cackle of laughter.

With his hands crossed tightly over his stomach, he let out a final few breathless chuckles.

“Ok Karl stop,” he practically panted the words out.

“Stop! I’m actually in pain,” he finished in a whining tone.

“He called me a fat muffinf**ker, I’m telling you,” Karl protested, as he continued to launch himself at his victim.

“Oh my god, I didn’t !” Bad cried, his black and red figure making impressive ground in an effort to survive.

“I don’t know bad,” Alex queried, his eyebrow raised in suspicion, “that sounds like something you’d do.”

There was a pause, Alex’s jaw clenched as he stunted his laugh, practically holding his breath.

Karl broke the silence with a yell, “He said it again!”

“What?!” Bad’s high pitched input was seasoned with disbelief.

Karl continued with his previous attack on the wrongly accused until Bad’s health bar deteriorated completely.   
With a few jolts of red, he perished. 

“Aw come on guys,” he cried.

Karl and Alex burst into fits of laughter, an occasional clap was heard from Karl’s end only sent Alex further into a spiral of intoxicating giggles.

Only when he managed to come down from his chuckling high was he able to form a cohesive sentence.

“Ok,” he let out his final few chortles before regaining his composure, “Do you guys wanna play jackbox?”.

The two hums of approval on the other end of the call were all Alex needed to hear before dragging his arrowed cursor to hover over the tab he had already prepared.

_Click_

He had almost forgotten he was live.

He brought his attention to chat and parted his lips to speak before Karl diverged his attention.

“Let’s play the rap one.” His tone was eager, “I’m gonna destroy Bad.”

Alex smirked, “If you insist.”

With the array of orange buildings that spread across his monitor came the name of his unfortunate opponent, Karl.

He rubbed his hands together, creating a chalky sound, and with a villainous grin, he began writing.

Time was up.

His giddiness was evident as he bounced up and down in his chair when his and Karl’s names were displayed.

“I just wanna say,” Karl excused, “The lines they gave me were shit, ok?”

Alex scoffed, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s what’s the problem.”

Karl sucked his teeth before leaping straight into his first bar.

_I deliver it hot as chicken Parmesan_

_Being around you makes me yawn_

Alex pinched his brow in distaste.

_I’m the top dog you’re just an ugly duck_

_After this, you and I should f-_

His wheeze seemed to have swallowed the final word whole.

Alex was already off of his chair, his posture awkwardly hunched.

“What ?!” He shrieked.

He flew back to his chair before leaning into his mic, “Yo that’s kind of sus man,” he said in a low tone.

“Dude,” Karl’s laughter had finally ceased, “What else fucking rhymes with duck.”

Alex's turn.

“Ok, are you guys ready?” He began,” I’m popping off I’m popping of-

_My rhymes are so sweet they’ll make you hurl_

_Come on Karl talk about candle girl_

Bad could be heard wincing on the line, only encouraging Alex more.

_You want respect? You give me a thumb_

_Or maybe stick it up on Twitter to get some_

He let out a whoop in celebration before wheeling himself closer into his desk, “I popped off so hard guys, come on.”

Karl could be heard satirically sobbing on the phone, which sent Alex’s eyes alight, his definite victory thrilled him.

“You keep her out of this man,” Karl's breathing was ragged, gasping, ”that was a low blow.”

Alex practically squawked in celebration, revelling in his victory.

He swung back and forth in his chair, his limbs moving according to chaos theory rather than anything a behavioural scientist could explain.

“I was going easy on you, but now?” The smile could be heard in Karl’s voice, “now I’m gonna pop off _so_ hard.”

The corners of Alex’s mouth curled up.

After a few rounds of subpar roasts from bad and hysterical bars from Gene, the rivals were pitted against each other once again.

Tongue in cheek and focus peaked, Alex began writing, grinning all the while as his masterwork began to unfold before his very eyes.

He stopped dead.

His face fell faster than a corpse in cement boots.

His eyes were laced with concern, the brown too glossy.

A flash of anxiety washed over him, remembering what he had disclosed with Karl the night before.

A static knot began to form in his lower stomach and his throat became dry.

He tried to swallow but it felt as though corn starch had strategically lined his throat.

_He wouldn’t dare._

When their names appeared on the screen anticipation began to bubble in Alex’s core.

Karl began.

_Your style is out of fashion, like an old man_

_You’re the one simping over a fan_

Alex finally managed a gulp.

_You ain’t busta rhymes more like busta knee_

_Let me spell it out for you, A-me-lie_

Blush seared through Alex’s cheeks and for a moment he thought his face was on fire.

He suddenly felt awkward and coy; even going as far as attempting to hide his rosy features behind his fingers.

The piercing shrieks of laughter that travelled across the phone line only made him blush harder until he was scarlet and roasting hot.

He gradually let his hands slide down his face and land heavily on his lap, leaving white blotches where his fingers had previously been.

The shock had rendered him speechless, so much so that his robot had partaken in the rap battle without him.

“ _Dude._ ”

The embarrassment in his voice was evident, his mouth hung in incredulity, the red hue still very prominent in the apples of his cheeks.

Through parted fingers, Amelie watched as Alex turned to a shade similar to her now vermillion complexion.

She felt as if she was paralysed from the neck up, unable to tear her eyes from the screen.

Her mind was swirling and her breaths were shallow.

The impact of her heart against her chest knocked every wisp of air from her lungs, making her unable to inhale, unable to exhale, unable to do anything.

The man that she had idolised for years, was now blushing in front of thousands;

Because of her.


	6. A Joke

Amelies PC gasped for air as she watched the menacing figure approach her, its arm a catapult firing cyan blocks. She had never witnessed someone speed bridge at such a shocking pace.

Any moment now, they would leap from the safety of their blue platform and onto the wooden scaffold that had defensively, and strategically, wrapped itself around her precious bed.

Her face was pinched into a look of sheer focus, attention only on the now fast approaching figure. Amelie knew that only one would walk away from this fight, and it needed to be her.

She gulped hard as she watched her enemy fly from their makeshift walkway.  
They were face to face, swords at the ready.  
The opponent charged, which Amelie dodged to the side in a fluid motion.  
Now angry, they swiveled back in her direction, their red eyes blazing.  
Her opponent thrust their sword forward, striking violently at her, and her health bar.

"Shit!"

They were a master swordsman, that was for sure.  
Slowly, Amelie was tiring.

"If I die," she announced theatrically, "I shall fight to the last breath."

With renewed vigour, she slashed her wooden 'blade' back and forth until, finally, the better player won.  
She watched as the island that she had so bravely defended shrunk in the distance as she plummeted to her death.  
"God damn it!"

Before letting out a long exasperated exhale she observed the hundreds of o7's that began to invade her chat.  
Bringing her eyes to her webcam, lips pursed and green eyes glistening, she slowly raised her arm to salute.

Over the past few weeks, she had learned to be a lot more comfortable on her streams. Originally shy and withdrawn, she finally managed to act as her authentic and histrionic self despite the average audience count of about 6,000 viewers.

The amount of support she had been fortunate enough to receive was a huge confidence boost, allowing her to shed the miserable cocoon she had once comfortably inhabited.

She read over donations that had been made throughout the stream as she always did near the end but noticed an unsettling message.

 _This chat makes me wanna cry smh_.

"Wait what?"  
Amelie's jovial spirit was now replaced with sweaty palms and a racing heartbeat, heavy and brisk.

She scrolled through messages of support and conversations amongst fans, noticing nothing of ill intent.

"Guys what were people sayi-  
20 scrolls up, tucked away between dozens of supportive comments, she noticed a series of hateful remarks.

_This is the one he's simping for? Tf_

_Lmao she's literally a fan, too easy for him man_

_He defo just wants some easy ass_

_He's 100% using her for views_

Her head jolted back in shock. She couldn't will her lips to move. It was as if she was stuck underwater, everything slow and warbled.  
Her gaze cast onto her keyboard and her eyes darkened.  
She felt her chest begin to tighten and her vision begin to blur, before quickly readjusting herself.

You're _live_ for fucks sake

Sporting a counterfeit smile and good posture, she hoped that the awkwardness that bathed the moment would be transient.

"So!" Her voice trembled in protest to her forced smile.  
She coughed, pushing her hair back behind her ear, even though it was already there.  
"Thanks for watching guys," her voice now stable, "I love you all so much, goodnight."  
The stream was over.

She sunk down into her chair, allowing her hair to cling onto her headrest, tracing the path that her head had previously traveled.  
Her eyes were glued to the led lights that drenched her room in a cool turquoise glow.  
It felt cold, she thought.

_Easy ass_

Was that how he saw her?  
How his viewers saw her?  
How _her_ viewers saw her?

She was so humiliated. She felt heat rise to her face and her eyes began to well.  
Almost against her will, her hands found their way to her now scalding cheeks.

"Oh my god, I'm such a joke." She whispered, almost laughing to herself, "of course he doesn't actually think of me like that."

She thought back to the rap battle between Alex and Karl the night before, putting particular focus on the line which received the most jarring reactions.

_At least I don't simp over a fan_

The thought of him even taking a slight liking to her inspired mockery. 

The heat from her face managed to trail down her neck, leaving a red tinge in its wake.  
How could she have misinterpreted his actions, his words, his expressions so much? It was as though he was speaking another language.

A fan.  
A devotee.  
That's all she was.  
That's all she'll ever be.  
A joke.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you like what you've read so far!  
> Don't forget to leave a Kudo if you enjoyed it, it really helps :)  
> 


End file.
